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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

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Lady  Evelyn  looked  out,  with  an 
anxious  eye,  at  her  parlour  window, 
for  the  arrival  of  the  carriage  which 
was  to  convey  her  sons  home  for  the 
Christmas  holidays.  They  were  well- 
disposed  boys,  and  had  conducted 
themselves  so  well  as  fully  to  deserve 
the  pleasures  that  awaited  them  at 
home. 

j.        u  Welcome,  my  dear  children, v  said 


4  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

their  mother,  as  they  flew  into  her 
arms,  "Caroline,  Lucy,  Anna,  your 
brothers  are  come."  The  little  girls 
hastened  down  stairs  at  the  joyful 
news. 

Caroline.  How  do  you  do  Philip? 
How  do  you  do  Henry?  How  well 
you  look,  and  how  much  grown  you 
are ! 

Lucy  {kissing  her  brothe?*s).  They 
have  been  good  boys,  I  dare  say,  and 
that  is  what  makes  them  look  so  well 
and  so  happy. 

Anna.  How  glad  I  am  the  holidays 
are  come. 


THE,  LITERARY  BOX.  D 

Caroline.  Did  you  get  my  letter. 
Philip  ?  I  wrote  in  great  haste,  but  the 
post  was  just  going  out. 

Philip.  Oh  yes,  I  received  it,  Car- 
ry, but  I  could  not  make  out  what  you 
meant  at  the  end,  about  the  nice  plan 
for  a  box,  I  thought  you  were  going  to 
give  Henry  and  me  a  work-box  upon 
our  arrival  : — I  could  not  think  what 
you  meant. 

"  Oh  no,"  said  Caroline,  laughing, 
ii  What  I  meant  was  mamma's  plan  for 
our  Christmas  amusement,  that  is,  for 
Twelfth-Night.-' 

"  Well,  come  along/'  said  Philip, 

a  2 


6  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

u  let  us  hear  all  about  it,  for  I  am  dying 
with  curiosity. "  The  children  all  went 
together  into  the  school-rbom. 

u  Well,"  resumed  Caroline,  f?  the 
other  day  mamma  sent  for  Rawlins,  the 
carpenter,  and  desired  him  to  make  a 
wooden  box,  with  a  slit  at  the  top  large 
enough  to  admit  a  hand.  This  box  is  to 
be  filled  with  things  of  our  own  writing, 
of  her's,  and  of  grand-papa's,  or  of  any 
body's  that  chooses  to  write.  Stories, 
anecdotes,  fables,  themes,  hymns,  ver- 
ses, charades,  any  thing,  in  short,  that  is 
pretty  or  entertaining.  Then  we  are 
to  draw  lots,  and  by  turns  to  put  our 
hands  into  the  box,  with  our  eyes  shut, 
and  to  read  whatever  we  take  out.  The 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  7 

day  will  soon  be  here,  so  we  must  lose 
no  time,  and  you  must  spare  as  much  as 
you  can  from  skaiting  and  sliding,  for 
every  one  must  help  to  write." 

"  Then  1  shall  write,"  said  the 
youngest  little  boy  (who  had  not  yet 
been  sent  to  school,  and  who  was  sitting 
at  the  table  putting  up  a  dissected  map); 
/  shall  be  allowed  pen  and  ink  as  well 
as  the  rest,  if  I  write  for  the  box,  and 
I  know  what  I  shall  write  about ;  I  shall 
write  about  the  fierceness  of  wild 
beasts." 

"  I  shall  feel  quite  nervous  and  fright- 
ened when  any  body  begins  reading  out 
any  thing  of  mine,"  said  Sophia  Pal- 


8  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

mer,  a  tall,  elegant,  placid  looking  girl, 
the  eldest  of  the  party. 

Philip.  Cousin  Annette  will  write 
the  most,  I  dare  say ;  you  know  she  is 
full  of  genius,  and  can  write  any  thing, 
and  has  a  turn  for  poetry  too. 

Lucy.  Yes,  and  mamma  says  that 
Aunt  Hopwood  is  to  be  invited  to  the 
opening  of  the  box,  and  she  will  be 
sure  to  help  us  nicely,  for  you  know  she 
is  so  clever,  and  is  so  fond  of  telling 
us  stories,  and  anecdotes,  and  interest- 
ing things,  which  are  almost  entirely 
out  of  her  own  head. 

Anna.   I   wonder    whether  Made- 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  9 

moiselle  will  write  any  thing  in  French? 
Will  mamma  let  her,  I  wonder?  I  do 
not  see  why  our  governess  should  not 
join  in  our  amusements. 

Sophia.  No  more  does  any  body, 
my  dear  Anna,  so  why  should  you  take 
such  an  idea  into  your  head? 

Henry.  Well,  all  I  know  is,  that  it 
will  be  excessively  entertaining,  and 
that  this  box  will  produce  more  fun  than 
any  box  has  ever  done  before  ;  and  I 
hope  mamma  will  ask  a  great  many  peo- 
ple to  come  to  hear  the  contents. 

u  No,"  said  Caroline,  u  mamma  says 
it  must  be  quite  a  private  concern,  and 


10  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

only  a  family  meeting,  and  that  my 
aunt  and  cousins  are  coming,  but  no- 
body else." 

"  Well,  so  much  the  better,  so  much 
the  better,"  said  they ;  "  and  now  let 
us  be  released  from  our  studies  for  a  cer- 
tain time  every  day,  that  we  may  have 
leisure  to  compile  for  this  literary  box ; 
the  time  will  soon  be  here." 

This  being  agreed  upon,  and  their 
mother's  consent  being  obtained,  maps 
and  grammars,  globes  and  slates  were 
laid,  aside,  and  instead  of  these  the  more 
novel,  though  not  less  innocent,  em- 
ployment of  juvenile  composition  was 
for  a  time  allowed. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  II 

The  young  party  was  indefatigable. 
The  box  was  placed  upon  a  slab  in  the 
entrance  hall,  where  by  degrees  it  was 
filled ;  one  little  author  or  authoress  af- 
ter another  contributed  towards  it,  and 
in  the  course  of  a  few  days  the  time  was 
up  for  its  completion. 

The  happy  evening  arrived,  and  in 
a  spacious  drawing-room,  elegantly  but 
not  splendidly  furnished,  and  full  of 
domestic  comforts,  Lady  Evelyn,  with 
a  select  party  of  intimate  friends  estab- 
lished herself  at  six  o'clock. 

Her  own  little  throng  were  not  yet 
arrived.  She  looked  at  her  watch,  and 
wondered  at  this.     In  another  minute, 


12  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

however,  Caroline  came  running  into 
the  room.  "  Oh,  mamma,  said  she,  u  I 
hope  I  am  punctual,  the  great  clock 
has  not  struck,  has  it  ?  I  was  finishing 
a  work-bag  that  I  was  making,  but 
when  I  thought  of  the  box,  I  ran  di- 
rectly/' 

Lucy  (entering).  Oh,  mamma,  here 
you  are,  I  hope  I  am  not  late,  I  was 
putting  my  doll  to  bed,  but  I  hardly 
waited  to  fold  up  her  clothes,  for  I 
thought  of  the  box,  and  was  afraid  you 
would  be  waiting. 

Anna  (entering).  O  mamma  !  my 
own  dear  mamma !  here  I  am :  now  for  a 
happy  evening.  I  was  putting  up  my 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  13 

map,  but  just  as  I  was  fitting  in  West- 
moreland, I  thought  of  the  box,  and  I 
did  run  in  such  haste,  for  fear  you 
should  begin  without  me  ;  do  let  me 
si£  next  y°u>  mamma. 

The  boys  then  followed,  saying, 
i4  Oh,  here  we  all  are,  now  we  only 
want  little  Charles,  and  our  party  will 
be  complete." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  he  is  ready  by  this 
time,"  said  Lucy  ;  u  I  will  go  and  fetch 
him  :  oh,  here  he  is." 

The  tea-things  being  removed,  Lady 

Evelyn   rang  the  bell;    the   box  was 

brought  and  placed  upon  the  table. 
B 


14  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

The  weather  was  cold  and  dreary, 
the  ground  was  covered  with  snow,  the 
wind  howled  tempestuously,  but,  seat- 
ed round  a  blazing  fire,  our  merry 
party  little  cared  for  this. 

"  They  were  not  doom'd  abroad  to  roam, 

Beneath  the  inclement  9ky; 
For  them  a  shelt'ring  happy  home, 

Did  Providence  supply." 

Who  should  draw  first  from  this  de- 
lightful box?  was  now  the  point  in 
question. 

"  Shall  it  be  the  eldest  or  the 
youngest,  mamma?"  said  one  of  the 
girls. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  15 

u  Oh !  the  youngest,  let  it  be  the 
youngest/'  said  little  Charles,  and  the 
lid  being  taken  off,  he  thrust  his  hand 
into  the  box  and  pulled  forth  a  small 
folded  paper. 

' i  What  is  it  ?"  said  many  voices. 

u  A  tale  in  verse/'  said  Charles,  and 
he  gave  it  to  his  mamma.  "  I  cannot 
read  this,"  said  he,  "  it  is  written  in 
Lucy's  hand,  and  I  can  never  read 
that,  you  know,  so  you  had  better  read 
it  for  me,  mamma."  Lucy  coloured 
modestly,  and  Lady  Evelyn  read  as  fol- 
lows:— 


LITTLE  JANE. 


111. 


But  fix'd  as  a  statue  the  naughty  child  stood, 
"  No  indeed,  dear  mamma,  I  must  go  to  the 

wood 

With  my  cousins,  and  Robert  and  Ben  ; 
'Twould  give  me  great  pleasure  to  stay  out 

to-night, 
And  though  the  sun's  setting,  the  moon  will 

shine  bright, 

It  will  do  if  I  come  in  at  ten." 


Then  off  ran  the  child,  and  her  mother  return'd 
With  tears  in  her  eyes,  her  fond  wishes  thus 

spurn'd, 

To  the  desolate  house,  all  alone  -,f 
But  how  much  better  would  it¥av^beeu  for 

poor  Jane, 
Had  she  tried  with  persuasion  her  wish  topbtain. 

Or  much  greater  firmness  had  shown. 
b  2 


PAqt  26 


LITTLE    JANE.  19 


VII. 

/So  Jane  she  felt  sorry,  and  thought  with  a 

sigh 
How  very  unkind  and  ungrateful  am  I 

To  this  dear  tender  mother  of  mine : 
Though  I  fret  her,  and  teaze,  and  perplex  her 

all  day, 
She  is  never  one  word  that's  unkind  heard  to 

say, 

Nor  e'er  at  her  fate  to  repine. 

avoursby 

If  I  ever  get  well  then  directly  Ifi  try 

With  her  counsels  and  wishes  and  rules  to 

comply, 

And  all  her  fond  care  to  repay  ; 
For  I  fear  that  God's  anger  will:  trouble  me 

sore, 
If  I  rise  from  my  bed,  and  behave  any  more 

In  this  wicked  and  obstinate  way. 


20  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Anna  {with  the  tears  starting  ir> 
her  eyes).  And  indeed  I  hope  she  d 
repent,  for  she  was  a  very  ungrateft; 
child  i  was  she  not,  mamma  ?     ,, J 

Lady  Evelyn,     I  dare  say  she  di 
my  dear,  for  her  heart  seems  to  hs 
been  touched  by  her  mother's  uncea^ 
ing  kindness,  and  I   do  not  doubt  he 
<  afterwards  repaid  it  as  it  de 
ser\w  -—    - 


Lucy.  It  is  a  very  pretty  little  story 

1   I  think,  mamma,  and  I  felt  quite  inter 

ested  while  it  was  read. 

Caroline.  Indeed  so  did  I,  and 
think  if  by  any  chance  I  was  to  beha. 

i 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  21 

\n  such  a  manner  to  you,  my  own  dear 
mamma,  I  should  be  deserving  of  the  se- 
verest punishments. 


"  My  dear  child,"  replied  Lady  Eve- 
lyn, I  pray  God  this  may  never  be  the 
case  of  any  of  those  children  I  am  blest 
with,  but  that  he  may  assist  me  to 
bring  them  up  virtuously,  and  give 
them  grace  to  repay  my  endeavours  by 
their  good  conduct. 

"But  Miss  Jane's  mamma  should 
have  been  more  resolute  in  enforcing 
her  commands,  my  dear  sister,"  said 
Mrs.  Hop  wood ;  "she  wished  her  child 
to  avoid  the  evening  air,  and  yet  suf- 
fered her  to  disobey  her  wishes,    This 


22  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

should  not  have  been  her  plan :  for  my 
part  I  only  think  children  take  advan- 
tage of  such  over-indulgence.  Some 
people  think  me  harsh  and  severe,  but 
I  do  not  think  my  own  boys  and  girls 
would. " 

"  Well,  well,"  said  little  Charles  im- 
patiently, having  borne  all  this  as  long 
as  he  possibly  could,  "  no  more  preach- 
ing now,  my  dear  good  aunt ;  we  are 
waiting  to  read,  and  can  hear  all  this 
another  time." 

a  Charles,"  said  his  mother,  "  you 
must  not  speak  in  that  manner  to  your 
aunt ; — pray,  my  dear  Arabella,  finish 
what  you  were  saying,  and  if  there  is 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  23 

any  more  rude  impatience  shown  by 
this  young  gentleman/'  laying  her  hand 
on  Charles's  flaxen  head,  "we  must 
exclude  him  from  our  party/"' 

aOh,  it  does  not  signify,"  resumed 
Mrs.  Hopwood,  "  I  was  only  going  to 
say  that  my  boys  and  girls,  whom  I  have 
brought  up  strictly,  are  as  affectionate 
as  children  can  be,  and  yet  my  will  is 
their  law."' 

There  was  a  lady  in  the  room  who, 
Lady  Evelyn  knew,  differed  from  her 
sister  on  these  points :  she  therefore 
judged  it  wisest  to  change  the  conversa- 
tion, and  with  her  usual  sweetness  and 


24  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

good  sense  she  proposed  again  assailing 
the  box. 

A  Fable  now  came  forth.  ''A  fable  in 
verse,  how  delightful!"  said  the  little  au- 
dience, as  Sophia  Palmer  read  as  follows: 

FABLE  OF  THE  MOUSE. 

In  a  cupboard-,  among  an  assembly  of  mice, 
One  ventured  to  give  a  young  friend  some  ad- 
vice, 
"  I  wish  (she  began,)  to  become  your  adviser, 
Because,  being  older,  of  course  I  am  wiser : 
And  if  you  will  follow  it,  shortly  you'll  see 
How  very  much  you  are  indebted  to  me. 
'Tis  the  custom,  you  know,  of  some  mice  who 

live  here, 
When  dainties  come  forth,  and  when  meal 
times  appear; 


FABLE  OF  THE  MOUSE.  25 

When  tables  are  spread,  and  there's  frolic 

and  fun, 
From  the  holes  in  the  wainscoting  slyly  to  run, 
To  pick  up  the  cheese  and  the  bread-crumbs 

that  fall 
From  the  trays  and  the  tables  in  parlour  and 

hall  : 
But  indeed,  my  young  friend,  'tis  a  very  bad 

plan, 
Thus  to  seem  to  be  getting  each  mite  that  you 

can; 
And  you  are  so  young,  you  should  diffident 

prove, 
And  not  without  chaperon  and  counsellors 

move. 
I  am  sure,  for  myself,  I  had  much  rather  die, 
Than  guilty  be  found  in  a  practice  so  sly. 
Now  to-morrow  some  company  come  to  the 

house, 
So  endeavour  to  show  me,my  sweet  little  mouse, 

c 


26  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

That  you  do  not  my  valuable  counsel  deride, 
Nor  let  your  young  form  in  the  room  be  espied." 

The  company  came,  and  as  merry  they  sat 
Both  eating  and  talking  in  sociable  chat, 
The  young  friend  to  the  edge  of  the  wainscot- 

ing  stole, 
And  just  ventured  to  peep  at  the  mouth  of  her 

hole  ; 
When  whom  should  she  see,  says  my  marvel- 
lous fable. 
But  her  prudent  adviser  right  under  the  table* 
Devouring  the  crumbs   with  what  speed   she 
was  able. 

"Ho,  ho!''  said  young  mousy,    "if  this  be 

the  fun, 
Sure  two  can  regale  there  as  ably  as  one, 
If  this  be  the  end  of  my  counsellor's  lecture, 
Why  I   should  not  join  her  I.  cannot  conjec- 
ture : 


I  thought  she  had  said  she  had  much  rather  die 
Than  guilty  be  found  in  a  practice  so  sly  $ 
But  I'll  e'en  go  and  bid  her  just  pause  in  her 

treat, 
And  tell  me  now  whether  she'll  suffer  or  eat" 

So  off  ran   miss  mouse,  and,  if  true  says  my 

rhyme, 
For  a  few  crumbs  of  cake  was  in  plenty  of 

time; 
But  alas !  an  old  lady  peep'd  under  her  chair,. 
And    exclaim'd,    "there's    those   mice  here 

again,  I  declare, 
James,  Richard,  for  pity's  sake  set  down  that 

plate, 
And  desire  that  the  traps  may  to-morrow^  be 

set." 

So  next    day  in  two    neighbouring  mouse- 
traps were  penn'd 


28  THE  UTERARY  BOX. 

The  disinterested  mouse  and  her  rash  little 

friend  : 
4i  Oh  had  you,"  said  she,  "  when  you  acted 

adviser, 
But  practised   your  rules,    you  had  proved 

yourself  wiser  ; 
For  had  I  but  seen  you  in  actions  display 
The  force  of  your  words,  I  had  walk'd  in  your 

way; 
Then  perhaps  we  had  met  with  a  happier  fate 
Than  a  lingering  death  in  this  wiry  grate." 

"Young  friend,  'tis  too  true:"  the  old 
mouse  then  replied, 

(i  What  I  preach'd  had  I  practised,  then  we 
had  not  died. 

My  words  when  alive  would  have  gain'd  me 
respect, 

Nor  here  had  I  linger'd  in  pain  and  ne- 
glect ; 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  29 

Nor  would  you  have  thought,  as  you  witness'd 

my  end. 
That  I  proved  but  a  valueless  kind  of  a  friend." 


Lucy.  What  a  clever  fable,  and 
how  nicely  Sophia  read  it  ?  I  wish  I 
could  read  like  you,  Sophia,  you  look 
so  composed  and  quiet,  and  read  so 
smoothly,  without  any  mistakes. 

Anna.  I  think  the  great  mouse  was 
properly  punished,  but  I  was  very  sor- 
ry for  the  poor  little  one. 

Lady  Evelyn.     Applying  the  mo- 
ral of  the  fable  to  these  of  our  own  spe- 
cies, I  think  you  will  find  that  those 
who  are  so  inconsistent  as  to  preach 
c  2 


30  THK  LITERARY  BOX. 

one  thing  and  practise  another,  are  ge- 
nerally properly  punished,  insomuch  as 
they  forfeit  the  esteem  of  their  fellow- 
creatures. 

Philip.  Oh  !  I  cannot  bear  to  hear 
people  lecture  and  lecture,  and  yet  see 
them  set  a  bad  example.  I  remember 
Tom  Simmons  used  to  say  to  me  (when 
I  had  that  trick  of  whistling  you  know, 
mamma),  my  dear  fellow,  you  should 
make  a  point  of  not  whistling  in  compa- 
ny, or  smacking  your  whip  about  the 
house,  it  is  vulgar  beyond  all  descrip- 
tion :  well,  and  I  heard  Mr.  Barton, 
his  tutor,  say,  that  he  was  constantly  an- 
noyed by  hearing  a  cracking  of  whips 
upon  his  staircase,  and  that  Simmons 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  31 

had  set  the  fashion  among  his  pupils  ; 
and  this  made  me  feel  such  a  contempt 
for  him. 

Caroline.  Oh  yes,  and  how  Miss 
Sarah  Bolton  goes  on  to  me  about  sin- 
cerity, and  not  doing  underhand  things, 
such  as  a  person  of  her  peculiar  integ- 
rity revolts  at ;  and  the  other  day  when 
she  was  giving  me  advice  upon  the  sub- 
ject, her  brother  interrupted  her  by 
asking  her  if  it  was  consistent  with  her 
peculiar  integrity  to  idle  away  her  time 
during  her  mother's  absence,  when  her 
governess  was  ill,  and  Sarah  was  trust- 
ed to  do  the  most  she  could  for  herself, 
and  had  promised  to  be  very  diligent  ? 
She  looked  so  foolish  I  pitied  her. 


32  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Henry.  This  was  preaching  with- 
out practice  indeed. 

Lady  Evelyn,  When  people  boast 
too  much  of  their  own  virtues,  it  always 
leads  one  to  suspect  them.  And  in  the 
present  case,  poor  Sarah  Bolton,  who 
is  very  much  inclined  to  this,  is,  I  fear, 
an  artful  girl ;  but  she  has  some  ex- 
cuse, for  she  has  not  had  the  advan- 
tages that  you  have,  my  dears,  so  you 
must  pity  while  you  blame  her;  and 
upon  all  occasions  let  us  think  of  our- 
selves and  our  own  faults,  and  as  little 
as  possible  of  those  of  others.  But  look, 
your  Aunt  Hopwood  has  drawn  from 
the  box,  and  is  going  to  read  something 
that  has  fallen  to  her  lot. 


ANECDOTE,  33 

"Droll  enough,  to  be  sure/'  said  the 
aunt,  as  she  unfolded  a  sheet  of  paper 
well  filled ;  "  here  is  an  anecdote,  my 
dears,  and,  if  I  mistake  not,  upon  the 
very  subject  we  have  been  discuss- 
ing." 

Little  Charles  guessed  the  subject  to 
be  the  education  of  children,  and  whis- 
pered in  his  sister's  ear  that  he  dreaded 
one  of  Aunt  Hopwood's  long  sermons, 
but  he  was  agreeably  surprised  when 
she  read  as  follows  : — - 


ANECDOTE. 

I  called  the  other  day  upon  a  friend 
of  mine,  of  the  name  of  Spicer.     She 


34  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

has  two  boys  at  school,  and  two  lovely 
children  at  home,  a  boy  and  a  girl.  I 
had  some  particular  business  to  con- 
verse with  her  upon,  and  therefore  call- 
ed at  rather  an  early  hour  for  visiting. 
I  was  told  she  was  out  walking,  and,  go- 
ing into  the  garden,  I  found  her  draw- 
ing her  little  girl  in  a  child's  carriage 
on  a  broiling  hot  day,  under  a  sunny 
wall,  a  nursery-maid  walking  at  the  side 
to  shade  the  little  girl  with  a  parasol. 
After  my  first  salutations  were  over,  I 
asked  her  why  she  chose  this  hot  situa- 
tion rather  than  the  shady  shrubbery  ? 
to  which  she  replied,  that  Sophy  scream- 
ed if  they  attempted  to  take  her  from 
under  the  wall  where  the  peaches  and 
nectarines  grew,  which  she  teazed  her 


ANECDOTE.  35 

mamma  for  all  the  way  she  went.  "  And 
she  frets  so  terribly/*  added  Mrs.  Spi- 
cer,  u  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  give 
her  one  ;  but  I  am  afraid  they  will  disa- 
gree with  her,  for  Dr.  Forbes  says  they 
are  quite  poison  to  her."  I  said  noth- 
ing, but  having  taken  two  or  three  turns, 
I  at  length  prevailed  upon  Mrs.  Spicer 
to  resign  the  little  chaise  to  the  nurse- 
ry-maid, and  to  walk  with  me  over  the 
grounds. 

As  we  passed  through  the  kitchen- 
garden,  I  observed  what  an  abundant 
quantity  of  strawberries  there  had  been 
this  year  W 

"Yes/*  replied  she,  "  so  1  have  heard 


36  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

every  one  observe,  but  we  have  very 
few,  and  I  do  not  think  I  have  myself 
tasted  one  throughout  the  whole  season." 

"  How !"  replied  I,  "  why  surely  you 
have  enough  to  suply  your  own  table?" 

u  Yes,"  said  she,  "but  the  poor  boys 
are  glad  of  them  in  the  holidays,  and  as 
they  are  rather  expeditious  in  clearing 
what  they  can  find  upon  their  first  arri- 
val, they  are  all  gone  before  I  have  time 
to  think  about  having  them  gathered,  for 
they  never  think  of  bringing  me  any." 

This  she  seemed  to  add  with  a  sigh, 
and  a  look  of  regret,  and  I  could  not 
help  answering  it. — "  Oh,  but  surely," 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  37 

said  I,  "  my  dear  friend,  you  reprimand 
your  boys  for  this,  do  you  not  ?  for  it  is 
greediness  at  any  rate,  but  becomes  self- 
ishness as  relating  to  you  !" 

"  Selfishness!"  said  Mrs.  Spicer. 
with  an  astonished  look. 

"  Yes :"  said  I,  "  perhaps  you  think 
me  very  harsh,  but  such  is  my  idea  of 
the  subject."  Here  we  were  interrupt- 
ed by  loud  screams, 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  cried  Mrs. 
Spicer,  and  we  both  ran  into  the  plea- 
sure-ground, at  the  end  of  which  there 
was  a  large  pond.  A  maid-servant  stood 
at  the  water's  edge,  with  the  little  boy 
D 


38  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

struggling    in    her    arms,    alternately 
scolding  and  screaming. 

"  Master  Henry  wants  to  sail  his 
boat/'  said  the  maid,  "but  my  master 
told  me  he  was  never  to  do  it  in  this 
pond,  only  in  the  small  one,  or  in  a  tub, 
and  I  am  sure  it  is  not  safe  for  him  to 
come  so  near  it :  but  he  does  scream  and 
cry,  and  iight,  and  is  so  naughty !" 

"My  darling,  you  shall  sail  the  boat 
in  the  tub  in  mamma's  room  :"  said  Mrs. 
S.  taking  the  child  up  in  her  arms  and 
kissing  him  ;  "  do  not  cry  any  more," 
continued  she,  endeavouring  to  soothe 
and  quiet  him,  but  with  an  outrageous 
effort  he  disengaged  himself  from  his 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  39 

mother  and  ran  towards  the  pond,  as  if 
he  was  determined  to  gain  his  point.  I 
flew  towards  him,  caught  him  in  my 
arms,  and  carried  him  into  the  house, 
in  spite  of  all  his  screams  and  struggles. 
I  set  him  down  in  a  chair  in  the  en- 
trance-hall. His  mother  followed  us, 
but  I  requested  her  to  leave  us  together 
for  a  few  minutes,  during  which  time 
I  succeeded  in  bringing  him  into  good 
humour;  and  then,  restoring  him  to  his 
fond  but  foolish  mother,  I  took  my 
leave. 

Anna.  What  disagreeable  spoiled 
children !  I  am  sure  I  should  not  have 
liked  to  live  with  them. 


40  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Caroline.  But  it  was  their  mo- 
ther's fault  in  a  great  measure,  because 
she  indulged  them  so  much. 

Lucy.  I  am  sure  that  is  not  the  case 
with  you,  dearest  mamma ;  for  however 
indulgent  you  may  be,  you  always  tell 
us  of  our  faults. 

Mrs.  Hop  wood.  Very  true,  my 
dear,  no  one  can  pursue  a  better  system 
than  your  dear  mother  :  if  you  were  to 
be  wayward  or  self-willed,  you  would 
indeed  be  inexcusable,  Anna,  dear,  do 
not  look  so  grave,  I  do  not  mean  to  im- 
ply a  word  of  blame  to  any  of  my  little 
darlings.     Come  and  sit  on  my  knee, 


LITTLE  DICK  SNAPPY.  41 

dearest,  and  we  will  hear  another  story 
together ;  see,  mamma  has  drawn  some- 
thing out  of  the  box,  and  Charley  is 
going  to  read  it, — dear  little  boy,  his 
cheeks  are  burning  with  the  thoughts 
of  it ;  do  not  be  afraid,  my  little  fellow, 
but  mind  your  stops,  and  read  as  well 
as  you  can. 
Charles  reads : 

LITTLE  DICK  SNAPPY. 


Little  Dick  Snappy 

Was  always  unhappy, 
Because  he  did  nothing  but  fret  ; 

And  when  he  once  cried, 

'Twas  in  vain  that  you  tried 
To  make  him  his  troubles  forget. 
D  2 


42  THE  LITERARY  BOX, 


His  mother  once  brought  him 

A  drum  that  she  bought  him 
Hard  by  at  a  neighbouring  fair ; 

And  gave  such  another 

To  Edward,  his  brother, 
And  left  them  their  pleasure  to  share. 

in. 

Little  Edward  began, 

Like  a  nice  little  man, 
To  play  with  his  new  little  drum  ,* 

But  Dick  with  a  pout, 

Only  turn'd  his  about 
In  his  hands,  and  looked  sulky  and  grum, 

"  What's  the  matter,  dear  Dick** 
You  look  sad,  are  you  sick  ? 
Come  march  like  a  soldier  with  me  ; 


Lrj'JKliAliV    l'.DA', 


LITTLE  DICK  SNAPPY.  \  43 

The  enemy  comes, 
Let  us  beat  up  our  drums, 
And  mamma  will  our  merriment  se 


"  No,  I  don't  like  my  toy," 

Said  the  ill-humoured  boy, 
ki  And  your's  is  the  best  and  most  new  ; 

But  if  you'll  give  me  your's 

Then  I'll  go  out  of  doors, 
And  if  not,  why  1*11  kick  it  in  two." 


"  Oh  no,  brother,  no, 

Pray  do  not  speak  so 
Of  a  trifle  in  anger  and  haste, 

Though  they're  equally  new, 

Yet  my  drum  I'd  give  you, 
But  I've  tied  it  in  knots  round  my  waist.' 


44  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 


VII. 


So  then  quarrelsome  Dick 

Gave  his  brother  a  kick, 
But  he  did  not  give  him  another ; 

But  saying  no  more, 

Coolly  walked  to  the  door, 
Only  giving  one  look  at  his  brother. 


VIII. 

Then  bursting  with  spite, 

With  his  utmost  of  might 
Master  Dick  trod  his  drum  on  the  floor, 

The  parchment  did  crack, 

When  lo !  Edward  comes  back, 
And  his  drum  in  his  hands  then  he  bore. 


IX. 

"  The  string  is  untied, 
Dearest  brother,"  he  cried, 
"  So  now  I  with  pleasure  will  change  $" 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  45 

But  when  Dick's  drum  he  found 
Lying  broke  on  the  ground, 
Oh !  how  did  his  countenance  change  ! 

IX. 

"I  am  really  ashamed," 

Dich  sobbing  exclaim'd, 
"  At  the  diff'rence  between  you  and  me. 

But  continue  my  friend, 

And  I'll  try  to  amend, 
And  a  good  tempered  fellow  to  be." 

Philip.  What  a  cross  little  fellow, 
to  be  sure !  if  I  had  been  his  brother,  I 
would  have  seen  his  head  shot  off  be- 
fore I  hp.d  done  what  he  asked  me. 

Caroline.  Oh,  Philip,  do  not  say 
S(     jdo  you  not  see  how  ashamed  he 


46  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

made  his  little  brother  feel  by  return- 
ing good  for  evil  ? 

Lucy.  A  gentle  person  often  makes 
an  angry  one  feel  sorry  for  his  hasty 
wicked  words;  does  he  not,  mamma  ? 

Lady  Evelyn.     Yes,  my  dear,  "  a 
soft  answer  turneth  away  wrath  ;"  and 
gentle   treatment  will  often  disarm  the 
most  resentful  anger.    The  good-natur- 
ed little  boy,   of  whom   we  have   been 
reading,  was  a  striking  example  of  this  ; 
he  went   out  of  the  room  to  get  the 
string  of  his  drum  untied,  meaning  to 
comply    with   Richard's  request,   but 
seeing  the  fruits   of  his  anger  oy  the 
ground,  he  showed  so  much  sorr   .,    nd 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  47 

yet  said  so  little,  that  he  made  Richard 
feel  quite  ashamed  of  himself ;  now,  had 
he  acted  differently,  a  quarrel  would 
have  ensued,  and  both  the  drums  might 
have  been  broken, 

Anna.  I  dare  say,  mamma,  he  de- 
served the  name  of  good-humoured 
Dick  ever  after,  like  the  little  boy  you 
used  to  take  us  to  see  at  old  nurse's  cot- 
tage. 

Lady  Evelyn.  I  dare  say  he  did, 
my  dear,  but  see,  Mademoiselle  has 
drawn  something  out  of  the  box ; 
eh  bien !  mademoiselle,  qu'avez  vous 
trouve  ? 


48  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Mademoiselle.  C'est  une  anecdote, 
Madame. 

Lady  Evelyn.  Eh  bein!  lisez 
done,  si  vous  plait. 

Mademoiselle.  Oh  non,  madame, 
je  ne  puis  pas  le  lire,  excusez  moi,  je 
vous  prie. 

Grand-papa.  No,  no,  don't  put 
the  poor  girl  to  the  blush,  and  make 
her  read  in  broken  English.  Come, 
Caroline,  do  you  give  us  this  anecdote  : 
or  you,  Mrs.  Hop  wood,  you  are  the 
best  reader  amongst  us. 

Mrs.    Hop  wood.     I   have  another 


THE  MILDMAY  FAMILY.  49 

anecdote,  my  dears,  which  forms  so 
striking  a  contrast  to  the  Spicer  family 
that  I  think  it  may  be  useful  to  you  all 
to  draw  a  comparison  between  them  in 
your  own  minds. 

I  dislike  making  comparisons  in 
general,  as  it  encourages  young  people 
to  be  personal  in  their  conversation  or 
remarks,  but  I  shall  not  forbear  relating 
an  anecdote  of  the  Mildmay  family,  for 
I  feel  I  shall  only  be  doing  justice  to 
my  much-loved  friend  their  mother. 

THE  MILDMAY  FAMILY. 

Mrs.     Hopwood    {reading).     u  I 
called  one   day  at  my  friend's  house, 
E 


50  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

where  I  was  met  by  the  servant,  who 
told  me  her  mistress  was  far  from  well, 
but  showed  me  into  the  school- room, 
and  said  she  would  let  her  know.  In 
the  school- room  I  found  little  Fanny 
Mildmay  surrounded  with  her  brothers 
and  sisters,  and  when  I  entered  the 
room  you  might  have  heard  a  pin  drop* 
'Mamma  has  one  of  her  bad  headaches/ 
said  she,  as  she  rose  to  meet  me,  '  but 
she  will  be  glad  to  see  you,  I  dare  say.' 
'  Where  is  Miss  Parsons  ?'  said  I  (she 
was  their  governess).  '  She  is  putting 
the  leeches  on  mamma's  temples,'  re- 
plied Fanny,  '  and  she  begged  me  to 
hear  the  children's  lessons  while  she 
was  gone ;  and  I  must  say  they  have 
been  very  good,  for  they  have  been 


THE  MILDMAY  FAMILY.  51 

quite  as  diligent  as  usual,  and  very 
quiet.  Poor  mamma's  room  is  so  near 
that  she  hears  every  sound,  but  they  do 
not  forget  this,  and  they  take  great 
pains  not  to  disturb  her.' 

"This  dear  child,  my  young  rea- 
ders, was  only  twelve  years  old. 

u '  We  miss  mamma  sadly  when  she 
is  ill/  continued  she,  '  for  she  is  always 
with  us  during  the  morning,  and  as  soon 
as  she  has  ordered  dinner  she  comes  up 
and  hears  us  our  lessons,  and  teaches  us 
music,  which  Anna  and  I  are  so  fond  of; 
but  to-day  of  course  the  piano-forte  will 
not  be  opened.' 


OZ  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

"I  looked  at  Fanny's  little  scholars 
as  they  sat  in  a  row  on  their  little  bench, 
with  a  degree  of  interest  I  can  scarcely 
describe. 

6i  To  see  four  naturally  merry-heart- 
ed children,  who  would  have  been  hap- 
py in  frisking  about,  curbed  by  affec- 
tion and  a  sense  of  duty,  sitting  quietly, 
and  learning  diligently,  and  with  so 
young  a  monitress,  '  Oh  V  thought  I, 
'  how  well  has  the  mother  of  these  chil- 
dren performed  her  part,  and  how 
will  she  be  repaid  for  all  her  trouble 
and  care  V 

"One  of  the  children   then   called 


THE  MILDMAY  FAMILY.  53 

upon  Fanny  to  hear  him  his  lesson  ;  he 
could  not  spell  the  word  Prophecy,  he 
was  turned  back,  and  he  came  again, 
but  still  he  could  not  say  it.  Fanny 
was  angry,  he  looked  as  if  he  was  going 
to  cry.  '  You  will  not  cry,  I  am  sure, 
William/  said  his  sister,  '  because 
mamma  is  in  the  next  room  with  a  head- 
ache, and  you  would  disturb  her/  The 
boy's  countenance  cheered  up  again, 
and  he  refrained  from  crying. 

66  Seeing  this,  I  went  out  of  the  room, 
and  brought  in  a  basket  of  ripe  cur- 
rants which  I  had  in  the  carriage.  '  I 
have  something  here,'  said  I,  as  I  en- 
tered with  the  fruit  in  my  hand,  '  for 

a    reward    for  this  fellow's    self- com  - 

i 

e  2 


54  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

mand,  and  of  which  you  may  all  like  to 
partake.' 

"  The  children  looked  at  one  an- 
other, and  then  at  me,  but  not  with 
satisfaction  as  I  had  expected.  Fanny 
had  left  the  room. 

u  '  Shall  I  ring/  said  I  to  Anna  the 
next  eldest  girl,  '  for  some  plates  and 
sugar?'  No,  thank  you,  we  must  not 
eat  them,  ma'am,'  replied  she,  (?  mamma 
says  she  is  afraid  of  our  eating  fruit  this 
year  because  we  have  all  had  a  fever 
which  she  calls  the  fruit  fever,  so  we 
are  not  allowed  to  taste  it.' 

"  ;  But  your  mamma  is  not  here  now, 


THE  MILDMAY  FAMILY.  55 

my  little  dear/  said  a  lady  who  was 
with  me,  ?  and  "  when  the  cat's  away, 
the  mice  may  play,"  you  know,  my 
dear ;  take  a  bunch,  my  love,  they  are 
quite  ripe,  and  as  sweet  as. sugar/  '  No, 
thank  you,  ma'am,  returned  the  little 
girl,  '  if  Fanny  were  here  I  am  sure  she 
would  not  let  us  eat  them,  and  so  in- 
deed we  must  not/ 

"  Oh !  I  was  quite  charmed  with  this 
instance  of  firmness  and  self-denial,  and 
indeed  with  all  I  had  seen  and  heard  ; 
and  I  kissed  these  dear  children  again 
and  again,  promising  when  I  renewed 
my  visit  to  bring  with  me  something 
that  would  give  them  pleasure  which 
they  would  be  allowed  to  enjoy/' 


56  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

This  anecdote  is  short,  but  neverthe- 
less it  will,  I  think,  interest  my  little 
readers.  I  think  I  know  more  than  one 
in  this  company  who  would  act  like  the 
little  Mildmays  if  opportunity  were 
given  them  ;  who  would  speak  of  their 
mother  as  affectionately;  who  would 
supply  her  place  as  well  if  she  was  ill  ; 
and  who  would  be  quite  as  scrupulous 
in  obeying  her  commands.  Such  a  con- 
viction is  very  gratifying  to  me. 

The  children  looked  at  one  another 
with  countenances  expressive  of  inward 
satisfaction.  "  I  know  who  Aunt  Hop- 
wood  means,  I  am  sure,"  said  Charles, 
"  she  means  Caroline  and  Lucy." 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  57 

i6  Grand-papa  has  drawn,  look !"  said 
Charles,  "  and  he  is  going  to  read,  he 
is  wiping  his  spectacles  on  purpose. 
Grand-papa  going  to  read!  ha,  ha, 
ha." 

Lady  Evelyn  silenced  Charles's  ea- 
gerness, and  said,  "  give  your  grand- 
father the  little  table,  Caroline,  and  put 
the  lamp  nearer  to  him."  "I  do  not 
know  what  sort  of  a  business  I  shall 
make  of  it,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
u  but  I  will  do  my  best.  Let  us  see : 
it  seems  it  is  all  about  a  young  dandy. 
I  hate  dandies,  I  do  not  think  I  shall 
read  it,  though  we  have  no  dandies 
here,  that  is  one  comfort ;  so  we  will  see 
what  it  is  all  about." 


58  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Grand-father  reads : 

Young  Hal  so  great  a  dandy  is,' 
That  all  his  young  acquaintance  quiz 
His  manners  and — 

6i  Aye,  aye,"  said  the  good  old  gen- 
tleman, "  I  find  my  old  eyes  will  do 
very  well  for  good  old  English  print, 
but  I  cannot  read  this  at  all.  Here, 
Madam  Hopwood,  do  you  try  your 
skill,  your  eyes  are  young  and  useful 
enough."  Grand-papa  handed  the  writ- 
ing to  the  aunt,  who  read  as  follows : 

THE  LITTLE  DANDY. 

i. 

Young  Hal  so  great  a  dandy  is, 
That  all  his  young  acquaintance  quiz 
His  manners  and  his  looks  : 


THE  LITTLE  DANDY.  59 

And  idly  looking  in  the  glass, 
He  let  full  many  a  moment  pass 
He  might  have  spent  in  books. 


His  little  fashionable  coat, 

His  fine  silk  neckcloth  round  his  throat, 

Put  on  with  so  much  pains  ; 
Only  his  young  conceit  exposed, 
And  to  his  pitying  friends  disclosed 

More  vanity  than  brains. 


in. 

A  rich  relation  call'd  one  day, 
And  kindly,  e'er  he  went  away, 

Gave  Hal  a  guinea  bright ; 
' 'Now  spend  this  well,  young  man,"  he  cried, 
"  Yes,  that  I  will,"  young  Hal  replied, 

"  That's  right,  my  boy,  that's  right." 


60  THE  LITERARY  BOX, 


Next  day  at  Harry's  house  it  fell, 
A  travelling  pedlar  came  to  sell 

All  sorts  of  trinkets  fine  ; 
Tweezers,  and  bodkins,  thimbles  bright, 
Rings,  pins,  and  broaches,  gladsome  sight 

To  those  who  thus  incline. 


Young  Hal  a  tawdry  ring  espied, 
And  long'd  to  gratify  his  pride, 

tf  Buy  it,"  said  he,  "  I  can, . 
It  will  be  such  a  dashing  thing 
To  wear  at  school  a  smart  gold  ring." 

And  so  he  paid  the  man. 

VI. 

Then  on  his  hand  his  purchase  placed, 
With  curling  hair  and  slender  waist, 
He  sallied  forth  to  ride  : 


■■•■ 


LraTli'i:Ahy  W.>:< 


THE  LITTLE  DANDY, 

When  'neath  a  hedge  which  cross'd  his 
He  saw  a  wretched  beggar  lay, 
A  baby  by  her  side. 


VII. 

"  God  bless  you,  master,  pity  send," 
The  woman  cried,  "  oh !  be  our  friend, 

And  but  one  trifle  give ; 
A  half-penny  to  purchase  food, 
Would  save  my  life,  indeed  it  would » 

And  make  my  baby  live." 

viii.     .   \ 

HP* 

Young  Henry  blush'd,  rememb'ring  well 
The  ring  the  pc*\ar  came  to  sell, 

The  mor.ey  he  had  spent, 
Or    \iich  one  sixpence  offer'd  now, 
'Might  have  transform 'd  a  gloomy  brow 
From  sadness  to  content. 
F 


■'-■ 


THE  LITERARY  BOX. 
IX. 

woman  now  began  to  cry. 
id  little  Hal,  impatiently, 
"  I  cannot  bear  this  more ; 
'11  try  and  sell  this  ring  again, 
ad  if  I  do  but  half  obtain 
Of  what  I  had  before, 


will  to  her  a  fortune  be, 
gi„      pleasure  bring  to  me 
To  see  hen  woes  redress'd  ; 
I  feel  I  am  a  f  ^fish  boy, 
And  all  my  time  and  thoughts  employ 
In  thinking  how  I'm  dress'd." 

♦ 

XI. 

Thus  said  young  Hal,  and  I  have  hea.  & 
He  vow'd  to  mend,  and  kept  his  word, 


Arid^s  in  years  he  grew. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX. 


He  gave  up  thinking  of  his  looks 
And  took  to  learning  and  to  books, 
And  grew  in  wisdom  too. 


Grand-papa.  .Well,  that  is  a  g 
thing,   however ;   all's  well  ,that  enu 
well,  you  know;  and  now,  Master  Cf 
ley,  you'll  never  have  any  of  ther 
ish  conceits  about  the  ador^§> 
young  person.    I  1  you  w 

be  a  dandy.  Com  /nither,  boy,  an^ 
:'No,  Grand  papa,"  like  a  man, 

Charles.  No  Grand-papa,  never,  I 
hope  I  never  shall. 

Grand-papa.  That's  right,  my  little 


THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

,  and  Carry  and  Lucy  you   will 

ow  up  to  be  fine  ladies,  I  know, 

hi,  my  girls  ?  No,  no,  you  know 

„r,  and  will  make  good  use  of  your 

ers,  and  will    be    able  to    hem  a 

et- handkerchief,  or   even  make  a 

An,  if  it  is  necessary:  but  stay,  do  not 

let  me  go  prosing  on,  and  so  stop  the 

'ing ;  there  is  Miss  Annette  looking 

about   something  that  she  is 

*^e  £      We  are  all  attention, 

■dy. 

Annette.  I  was  only  smiling,  sir, 
.0  perceive  that  I  have  taiien  from  the 
Box  a  little  story  which  speaks  in  the 
very  beginning  of  a  useful  little  girl, 


A 


UTEUARY  BOX. 


LITx 

who,  as  you  say,  "  k 
fingers  f9  but  you  shall  Lv, 

Annette  reads : 

LITTLE  KATE. 


Who  is  it  trips  o'er  yonder  hill 

With  milk-pail  on  her  head, 
With  face  which  speaks  so  much  good  will, 

And  such  a  lightsome  tread  ? 


'Tis  little  Kate  of  Heathy  Moor, 
Whom  all  around  report 

To  be,  although  so  young  and  poor. 
Her  mother's  sole  support. 
F   2 


AY  BOX. 


III. 


crippled  is  her  mother's  state, 
And  scarcely  can  she  stir 
•yond  her  little  garden-gate, 
So  Catharine  waits  on  her. 


Oh  !  could  some  idle  ladies  gay 
Young  Catharine  only  see, 

1  think  they'd  mend  without  delay, 
And  idle  cease  to  be. 


She  rises  at  the  peep  of  dawn, 
And  then  she  hastes  away 

To  glean  amid  the  scattered  corn, 
Nor  heeds  the  heat  of  day. 


LITTLE   KATE, 


vr. 


And  then  her  mother's  clothes  she 
The  humble-meal  prepares, 

And  every  little  trouble  takes, 
And  lightens  all  her  cares. 

VII. 

But  who  is  that  girl  standing  there  ? 

A  beggar  you'd  suppose, 
With  such  a  wild  and  vacant  stare. 

And  such  untidy  clothes. 


'Tis  little  Sal  of  Heathy  Moor, 
Whom  all  the  neighbours  say 

Goes  loit'ring  on  from  door  to  door 
In  idleness  all  day. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX, 


opting  when  she  idly  plays 
♦Vith  headstrong  village  boys 
t  boist'rous  games,  and  helps  to  raise 
A  loud  and  clam'rous  noise. 


x. 

Dut  neither  read,  nor  spin,  nor  sew$ 
Nor  do  one  thing  will  she, 

Yet  Sally  has  a  mother  too 
In  want  and  poverty. 


XI. 

But  who  is  that  young  lady  sweety 
Of  such  a  pleasant  mien, 

With  little  sandals  on  her  feet, 
And  bonnet  tied  with  green? 


LITTLE  KATE. 


XII. 


'Tis  Little  Ljdia  of  Clare  Hall, 
Of  whom  report  it  tells, 

That  she's  the  very  best  of  all 
The  ladies  where  she  dwells. 


XIII. 


Her  cheek  with  rosy  freshness  glows. 

And  I  have  understood, 
From  house  to  house  she  daily  goes 

Endeav'ring  to  do  good. 


XIV. 


She  now  approaches  little  Sal, 
I  wonder  what  she'll  say  ; 

She'll  tell  her  she's  an  idle  girl, 
And  wastes  each  precious  day. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX. 


XV. 

II  bid  her  think  upon  her  sin, 
•ind  all  her  faults  revie-w  5 
nd  then  inspire  her  to  begin 
A  better  course  anew. 


xvi. 

She'll  bid  her  think  on  little  Kate, 

And  all  her  faults  amend ; 
And  if  she  does,  the  rich  and  great 

Will  surely  her  befriend. 

Anna.  Oh  dear !  if  she  thinks  for  one 
minute  of  the  difference  between  her  and 
little  Kate  she  will  amend,  mamma. 

Lady  Evelyn.  I  think  she  will  hv 


THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

deed,  my  dear.     The   descripf 
little  Sally  reminds  me  of  the  cl 
in  some  of  the  villages  in  the  no 
England,  where   the    girls   are  1 
quite  barbarous,  and  are  suffered  to 
wild  about  the  village,  to  the  mi 
their  own  minds,  and  the  annoyance 
the  inhabitants, 

Caroline.  But  in  the  villages  nearer 
London  there  is  a  great  difference,  is 
there  not,  mamma? 

Lady  Evelyn.  Yes,  my  dear,  and 
there  are  now  in  most  villages  many 
schools,  both  Day  schools  and  Sunday 
schools,  established  and  maintained  by 
the  richer  inhabitants,  which  conduce 


THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

y  to  the  improvement  of  the  poor, 
e  comfort  of  the  rich ;  as  the  chil- 
.re  taught  to  work,  read,  and  per- 
other  useful  offices,  by  which 
/  are  enabled  to  gain  a  livelihood. 

Lucy.  It  is  terrible  to  see  a  girl 
idling  all  day  long  while  she  has  any 
sick  or  poor  relations  at  home  who  re- 
quire her  aid ,  this  makes  her  doubly 
blameable :  does  it  not,  mamma  ? 

Lady  Evelyn.  Yes,  indeed  it  does, 
my  dear.  I  remember  once  going  into 
a  wretched  cottage,  and  finding  a  poor 
creature  with  a  baby  on  her  lap,  patch- 
ing her  husband's  shirt,  and  rocking 
with  her  foot  a  cradle  in  which  lay  an- 


THE  MILDMAY  FAMILY.  73 

other  older  child  ill  with  the  small  pox. 
I  had  just  met  in  the  road  her  eldest 
girl  playing  at  marbles  with  some  boys; 
"  Why,"  said  I,  "  do  you  not  make 
your  eldest  daughter  assist  you  at  home 
either  in  mending  your  shirt,  rocking 
the  cradle,  or  nursing  your  baby." 
"  Oh  ma'am,"  "  I  never  see  any  thing 
of  Bess  from  morning  till  night,  except- 
ing when  she  comes  in  to  have  her  bit 
of  victuals ;  she  don't  do  any  thing  for 
me,  though  I  am  sure  I  did  enough  for 
her,  for  the  Lord  knows  the  trouble  I 
had  in  rearing  her." 

It  really  made  my  heart  bleed  to  hear 
the  poor  creature  speak  thus,  and  be- 
fore I  left  the  cottage  I  promised  her 
G 


74  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

to  put  her  girl  to  school,  but  I  did  this 
for  the  mother's  sake  as  well  as  for  the 
child's,  and  should  have  done  it  with 
more  satisfaction  if  she  had  been  a  bet- 
ter disposed  girl. 

Here  little  Charles  went  and  whisper- 
ed something  in  his  sister's  ear ;  "  No  se- 
crets, Charles :  what  have  you  got  to  say 
upon  the  subject?"  said  aunt  Hop  wood. 

Lucy.  He  says  mamma  should  have 
put  this  last  story  into  the  box  as  it 
would  have  done  for  an  anecdote. 

His  mother  smiled,  and  Charles  ran 
up  to  the  box  ;  "  Oh !  it  is  almost  emp- 
ty," he  exclaimed  in  a  piteous  tone. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  75 

"  No  peeping,  Master  Charles/'  said 
his  brother,  "  that  is  against  the  laws, 
come,  sit  down,  and  help  to  guess  this 
charade  that  has  fallen  to  my  lot  to 
read." 

•  "  Oh !  a  charade,  I  like  that,"  said 
the  little  boy  as  he  nestled  close  up  to 
his  mother  on  the  sofa,  "  all  about  my 
first,  and  my  second — this  is  what  I  so 
much  like !" 

CHARADE. 

Though  my  first  is  a  thing  which  you  cannot 
descry, 
Its  existence  may  clearly  be  shown, 
And  although  it  has  ne'er  been  perceived  by 
the  eye 
Yet  its  power  and  strength  are  well  known. 


76  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

« 

With  a  force  which  my   second  can  never  re- 
sist, 
It  compels  it  its  work  to  fulfil  ; 
And  that  man  may  have  plenty  whereon  to 
subsist 
Will  suffer  it  not  to  stand  still. 

My  whole  with  its  outspreading  arms  would 
appear 

To  receive  you  with  fondness  and  love, 
But  children  beware  how  you  venture  too  near, 

For  a  treacherous  friend  it  will  prove. 

Whoever  would  under  its  shelter  abide 
Would  quickly  be  thrown  to  the  ground, 

And  whatever  in  its  bosom  you  dare  to  confide 
Will  crush'd  into  atoms  be  found. 


u  Oh !  we  never  shall  guess  it,  I  am 
sure,"  said  Charles. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  77 

"  Oh!  but  try,"  said  Caroline,  u  you 
must  think  of  it  a  little." 

u  I  dare  say  mamma  will  guess  it  di- 
rectly," said  Lucy,  "she  is  so  very 
quick  at  finding  them  out." 

"This  is  Annette's  I  am  sure,"  said 
one  of  the  boys,  "  she  looks  so  import- 
ant and  sits  so  mute  ; — come  let  us  see 
what  it  is,  read  it  again  : 

Though  my  first  is  a  thing  which  yeu  cannot 
descry, 

"  What  can  that  be  ?"  said  Charles. 

«  Why  what  is  it  that  you  cannot  see  ?" 
g  2 


/5  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

said  his  mamma,  "  and  yet  has  great 
power  and  strength  ?" 

"Oh!  a  lion,"  said  Charles, 

"Why  cannot  you  see  a  lion, 
Charles  ?"  said  Lucy. 

ff  Oh  aye,  I  forgot :  it  must  be  some- 
thing that  we  cannot  see  ;  can  we  hear 
it,  mamma  ?" 

f*  Yes,  indeed  you  can,  my  dear,  and 
it  makes  a  great  noise  too,  and  especi- 
ally in  winter.  I  heard  it  not  long  ago." 

"No!  did  you,  mamma?"  said  Charles, 
"  Oh  !  I  know  what  you  mean,  it  is  the 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  79 

wind  that  we  hear  and  do  not  see,  is  it 
not,  mamma?" 

"  Right,  right,  my  dear  boy  ;  now  for 
the  second :  you  have  not  guessed  half 
of  it  yet.     Listen  to  the  rest : 

With  a  force  which  my  second  can  never  re- 
sist. 
It  compels  it  its  work  to  fulfil." 

"  Oh  !  that's  it,  I  know  it,"  said  Phi- 
lip. 


"  And  I  know  it,"  said  Henry. 


"  And  I  have  known  it  all  the  time," 


: 


said^Caroline. 


80  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

And  that  man  may  have  plenty  whereon  to 
subsist, 
Will  suffer  it  not  to  stand  still. 

"  Oh !  that's  a  mill,"  said  Charles, 
6i  then  the  word  is  Windmill.  I  have 
guessed  it,  I  have  guessed  it,"  said  he, 
clapping  his  hands,  and  running  up  to 
his  grandpapa,  "  you  know,  grandpapa, 
a  windmill  does  spread  out  its  arms, 
and  does  crush  all  the  corn  to  pieces, 
ha!  ha!  ha!" 

u  Well,  now  we  all  know  this  word, 
let  us  read  something  else,"  said  Lady 
Evelyn,  "  for  it  is  getting  late." 


"  Oh!  some  sweet,  pretty  lines,"  said 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  81 

Caroline,  as  she  put  her  hand  into  the 
box,  and  pulling  out  a  piece  of  neatly 
folded  paper.  "  These  are  mamma's,  I 
know/' 

"  Well,  let  us  have  them,  let  us  hear 
them,"  said  grandpapa,  "  only  first,  if 
you  please,  my  dear,"  (said  he  to  lady 
Evelyn)  u  we  will  ring,  and  have  a 
log  or  two,  for  it  feels  tremendously 
cold  to-night." 

The  logs  were  brought,  the  fire  blaz- 
ed anew,  and  Caroline  read  as  follows : 


82  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 


LINES 

ADDRESSED  TO    A   LITTLE    GIRL  WITH  A  WATCH 
ON  NEW  YEAR'S  DAY. 


A  little  prize  to  call  your  own, 

A  token  of  the  coming  year, 
Receive,  dear  child,  this  gift  from  one, 

To  whose  fond  heart  you're  justly  dear. 


Receive  it,  and  its  golden  chain 
Within  your  little  girdle  wear, 

And  ever  let  my  gift  remain 

Your  pleasure  and  your  daily  care. 

in. 

But  not  for  ornament  alone 
Receive  my  little  humbje  prize  : 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  83 

Let  it  a  nobler  purpose  own ; 

Mark  with  how  swift  a  wing  time  flies. 


Like  a  true  friend  recall  to  mind 
The  passing  duties  of  each  day, 

That  each  returning  year  may  find 
My  child  pursuing  virtue's  way. 


And  so  shall  pass  her  days  and  years, 
And  virtuous  shall  my  infant  prove, 

Mindful  of  all  her  mother's  cares, 
And  worthy  of  her  tenderest  love. 

Grandpapa.     Oh  that's  charming, 
upon  my  word,  very  clever  indeed,  and 


84  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

such  a  good  moral.  Miss  Annette,  this 
isyour's,  I  think,  is  it  not?  Yes,  yes, 
I  see  by  the  little  twinkle  in  the  corner 
of  your  eye  that  this  is  a  little  conceit 
of  your's  :  besides  I  drfre  say  the  pretty 
little  watch  I  see  by  your  side  first  re- 
minded you  of  it."  Annette  involun- 
tarily laid  her  hand  on  her  watch  and 
sighed,  for  it  had  been  given  her  by 
her  brother,  who  was  in  India,  and  it 
was  a  parting  token. 

"Come,"  said  Lady  Evelyn,  '-  we 
must  go  on,  or  I  fear  it  will  grow  late, 
and  we  shall  be  obliged  to  break  up  be- 
fore our  box  is  empty.  Oh  !  Frederick 
is,  I  see,  prepared  to  begin." 


TOMMY  AND  HARRY.  85 

"  Do  not  look  so  pompous,  Frede- 
rick/' said  Anna. 

"  Don't  be  pert,  Miss  Anna/'  said 
Charles. 

Lady  Evelyn  made  a  sign  to  Frede- 
rick, who  read  as  follows : — 


TOMMY  AND  HARRY. 

u  Oh  dear  !  how  I  hate  this  horrid  cold  wea- 
ther," 

Said  Tommy  to  Harry,  whilst  walking  to- 
gether ; 

4<  There's  nothing  so  cheerless  throughout  the 
whole  year 

As  the  three  months  of  winter,  so  lonely  and 
drear." 

H 


86  THE  LITEBARY  BOX* 

"  Oh  don't  mind  the  weather,"  young  Harry 

replied, 
"  But  come  to  the  pond,  and  let's  both  have 

a  slide  ; 
Of  the  cold  and  your  mis'ries  you'd  soon  lose 

the  thought, 
If  you'd  play,  jump,  and  run,  as  a  happy  boy 

ought. " 
But  all  that  young  Harry  could  say  was  in 

vain, 
Discontented  young  Tommy  did  nought  but 

complain. 

"  Ah  well,"  return'd  he,  with  a  deeply 
fetch'd  sigh, 

«« I'll  play  fast  enough  when  the  winter's  gone 
by; 

Depend  upon't  Hal,  you'll  not  hear  me  com- 
plain 

When  the  snow  melts  away,  and  the  spring 
come's  again." 


TOMMY  AND  HARRY.  87 

in  it's  regular  order  the  cold  winter  pass'd  % 
Usher'd  in  by  the  cuckoo,  sweet  spring  came 
at  last. 


"  I  am  sure  that  no  creature  would  fancy  this 

May," 
Said  Tommy  to  Harry,  while  walking  one  day, 
The  sun  may  shine  bright,  but  the  wind  is  so 

chill, 
?Tis  a  wonder  it  does  not  make  every  one  ill  $ 
And  as  for  the  garden,  there's  not  any  flowers? 
No  marvel,  for  April  had  scarce  any  showers. 
But  nothing  can  grow  in  this  half  and  half 

weather, 
Like  winter  and  summer  both  coming  together. 

tf  Oh  don't  think  about  it,"  young  Harry  re- 
plied, 

"But  come,  in  the  lanes  let  us  take  a  nice 
ride; 


88  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

For  surely  the  hedges  begin  to  smell  sweet. 
And  surely  the  gooseberry-pies  are  a  treat  ; 
And  does  not  the  note   of  the  cuckoo  you 

hear 
Enliven  your  heart  at  the  dawn  of  the  year  ? 
Since  smiling  and  cheerful  is  all  that  we  view? 
Come,  come,  my  young  friend,  you  must  look 

smiling  too." 
But  all  that  young  Harry  could  urge  was  in 

vain, 
Discontented  young  Tommy  did  nought  but 

complain. 

"Ah  well,"    return'd   he,   "you'll    not  see 

me  look  glum 
When  the  farewell  of  spring  bids  the  summer 

to  come ; 
When  the  weather  is  hot  from  the  morning  till 

night, 
Then  trust  me  you'll  soon  see  my  countenance 

bright." 


TOMMY  AND  HARRY,  89 

In  it's  regular  order  the  lovely  spring  past ; 
UsherM  in  by  sweet  fragrance  came  summer 
at  last. 

"  "What  is  one  to  do  in  this  terrible  heat  ?" 
Said  Tommy  to  Harry,  as  chancing  to  meet ; 
1 1  It  is  really  intense,  no  one  thing  can  I  do. 
In  the  cool  of  the  evening  one  can,  it  is  true  5 
But  I  feel  so  knock'd  up  by  the  end  of  the 

day, 
That  when  evening  does  come,  I'm  unable  to 
play*." 

"  Oh  don't  think  about  it,"  young  Harry  re- 
plied, 

"  But  come,  let  us  sit  by  the  cool  river  side  ; 

Only  look  at  those  roses,   how  lovely  they 
blow  ! 

Only  see  yonder  jasmine  tree  !  doth  it  not 
grow? 

H  2 


VK)  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Only  look  at  the  hayfield,  how  cheerful  the 

scene ! 
Come,  Tommy,  you  must  not  so  pensive  be  seen, 
Sure  this  is  not  the  time  to  indulge  idle  fears, 
When  all  that's  around  you  so  blithesome  ap- 
pears." 
But  all  that  young  Harry  could  urge  was  in 

vain, 
Discontented  young  Tommy  did   nought  but 
complain. 

"  Ah  well,"  return'd  he,  li  when  this  hot  wea- 
ther's o'er, 

Then  nice  sober  autumn  will  come  as  before  ; 

'Twill  be  cool  enough  then  to  walk  out  when 
we  please, 

And  we  need  not  spend  all  our  whole  day  un- 
der trees : 

No,  trust  me,  dear  Hal,  you'll  not  hear  me 
complain 

When  the  breezes  of  autumn  refresh  us  ajrain/'1 


TOMMY  AND  HARRY.  91 

In  regular  order  the  fine  summer  pass'd, 
And  the  mild  sober  autumn  came  pensive  at 
last. 

"  Oh  dear  what  a  desolate  sight  'tis  to  see," 
Said  Tommy,    "  the  leaves  falling  fast  from 

each  tree : 
The   days  getting  shorter,  too,    tell  us   with 

pain 
That  the  horrid  cold  winter  is  coming  again!" 

*'  Oh  don't  think  about  it,"  young  Harry  re- 
plied, 

4i  But  come  to  the  cornfields,  the  labourer's 
pride  5 

Oh  !  see  the  rich  harvest  that  Heaven  has  sent? 

To  reward  the  hard  toils  of  the  poor,  yet  con- 
tent : 

Oh  !  look  at  the  forest's  rich  various  hues, 

The  beauties  of  autumn — you  can  if  you 
choose." 


92  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

But  all  that  young  Harry  could  urge  was  in 

vain, 
Discontented  young  Tommy  did  nought  but 

complain. 

u  Well— "  said  he,  "But,"  said  Hal,  "  hear  I 
must  interpose, 

You  are*wishing  for  winter  again,  I  suppose; 

Oh,   Tommy  !    you  know  not  for  what  you 
would  sigh, 

While  blessings  and  comforts  unheeded  pass 
by: 

Discontented,  repining, 'and  selfish  you  prove, 

Whilst  crown'd  with  rich  gifts  from  your 
Father  above ; 

Viewing  only  the  dark  side  of  every  case, 

And  finding  a  care  in  each  season  and  place; 

The  pleasures  you  meet  with  you  foolishly 
spurn, 

And  waste  the  fresh  youth  that  will  never  re- 
turn. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX,  93 

But  come,  evening  twilight  is  fading  away, 
Let  us  kneel  to  our  heavenly  Father,  and  pray 
That,  as  blessings  He  sends  us  in  mercy  and 

love, 
The   cheerful  est    thanks   may  our  gratitude 

prove. 


Grandfather.  A  little  grumbler! 
Upon  my  word  he  had  better  have  or- 
dered his  carriage  and  gone  off  to  the 
continent  with  his  valet,  and  that  would 
have  suited  him  better. 

Lucy.  Or  have  gone  with  Captain 
Parry  to  the  North  Pole,  papa ;  it  would 
have  been  cool  enough  for  him  there,  I 
am  sure. 


94  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Anna.  Oh !  but  he  was  sometimes  too 
cold;  you  know. 

Grandpapa.  Oh  well !  I  would  soon 
have  stopped  the  young  gentleman's  be- 
wailings,  by  keeping  him  upon  bread 
and  water  for  a  week  ;  this  would  soon 
have  brought  him  round. 

if  Oh,  grandpapa  you  are  severe :  is 
he  not,  mamma  ?"  said  Caroline  (going 
up  to  her  mother  and  gently  taken  her 
hand)  5  you  say  nothing,  mamma ;  what 
would  you  have  done  with  Tommy  ?" 

u  I  would  have  given  him  if  I  could, 
my  dear,  what  he  most  wanted,  a  con- 
tented and  cheerful  disposition,  with 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  95 

which  he  would  have  been  happy  in  all 
seasons,  and  he  would  have  found  that 
they  all  have  their  different  charms. 

There  is  a  wise  o'erruling  Power, 
That  bids  the  darkening  clouds  to  lower ; 
There  is  a  bounteous  hand  divine, 
That  bids  the  sun  with  radiance  shine, 

There  is  a  sunshine  that  will  smile, 
Though  all  around  be  dark  the  while; 
That  by  its  cheerful  light  can  warm, 
Though  piercing  blows  the  biting  storm. 

Oh  where  shall  we  this  blessing  find  F 
It  is  the  sunshine  of  the  mind. 


u  Very  true,  very  true,  my  dear," 
said  the  old  gentleman;  "and  now,  have 


96  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

you  another  charade?  for  I  liked  the 
last ;  I  should  like  to  guess  another. 
Mrs.  Hopwood,  put  your  hand  into  the 
box." 

u  A  rebus,  sir,  a  rebus." 

"  Oh  well  it  is  all  the  same,  it  is  all 
guessing  work,  so  let  us  have  it ;  and 
now  children  be  quiet  whilst  we  try  to 
catch  the  meaning." 


l'-r 


Mrs.  H.  reads: — 

ENIGMA. 

You  may  see  me  in  beauty  and  ugliness  too. 
Both  in  truth  and  in  untruth  my  form  you  may 
view  ; 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  97 

In  underhand  dealings  I  too  take  a  part, 
And  yet  I  am  seen  in  uprightness  of  heart ; 
I  am  always  in  fault,  yet  some  good  I  produce, 
For  let  what  will  be  done,  I  am  always  in  use. 
You   may  find  me  in  thunder,  but  never  in 

storms, 
And  though  never  in  panics,  I'm  always  in 

qualms. 
I'm  always  in  sunshine,  blow  wind  north  or 

south, 
And  still  further,  am  always  in  every  mouth , 
And  if  this  won't  reveal  me,  my  form  you  may 

spy> 

In  no  less  than  the  pupil  of  every  eye. 
In  pulpits  you'll  see  me,  when  church  is  be- 
gun, 
Yet  I'm  never  in  earnest,  but  always  in  fun ! 
And  if  this  won't  betiay  me,  why  here  is  a 

clue, 
My  dear  little  readers  I'm  always  with  you. 

I 


98  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

"  Capital,  capital !"  said  the  old  gen- 
tleman, "  I  have  it,  and  it  has  so  much 
to  do  with  you,  my  little  readers,  that  I 
shall  think  it  very  strange,  if  you  do 
not  guess  it." 

"  I  know  it." 

64  So  do  I,  so  do  I,"  said  the  chil- 
dren, one  after  the  other,  all  but  one, 
and  that  was  Lucy. 

"  I  do  not  know  it,"  said  she. 

Oh,  you  stupid  girl,"  said  the  boys. 


a 


"No,  she  is  not  stupid  said  Lady 
Evelyn,  "  give  her  another  minute,  and 
she  will  guess  it." 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  9 9 

Lucy  thought  again,  but  she  did  not 
guess  it.  Her  mother  read  it  again, 
and  she  found  it  out  directly,  and  she 
kissed  her  mamma  for  her  gentle  inter- 
ference, and  it  then  fell  to  her  turn  to 
read  the  following  lines : 


Dear  brothers  and  sisters  if  we  are  all  good. 
Our  dear  father  has  said  he  would  try  to  ar- 
range 

To  do  what  he  promised  he  would  if  he  could, 
To  take  us  to  London  to  Exeter  Change." 

ii. 

With  pleasure  and  joy  every   countenance 
beam'd 
With  delighrand  surprise  they  had  scarce 
known  before. 


100  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Of  the  gay  expedition  the  children  all  dream'd, 
In  the  morning  the  carriage  drove  up  to  the 
door. 

in. 

But  a  much  stronger  feeling  of  eager  surprise 
They  felt  when  arrived  where  the  animals 
dwelt, 
And  they  gaz'd  with  astonish'd  and  wondering 
eyes, 
Upon  beasts  whose  dread  names  they  before 
only  spelt. 

IV. 

Their  father  he  led  them  with  tenderest  care, 
From  creature  to  creature,  each  wonder  to 
view, 
And  smiled  at  each  word  which  he  heard  them 
declare, 
And  at  comments  they  made,  and  remarks 
ever  new. 


THE  LITEHARY  BOX.  101 


"  Look,"  said  he,  "  at  the  elephant,  stately 
and  great, 
At  his  body  and  bulk,  so  stupendous  and 
grand ; 
Yet  here  with  his  keepers  he'll  patiently  wait, 
Obeying  with  meekness  their  look  and  com- 
mand. 


"  And  look  at  his  trunk  almost  reaching  the 
ground, 

To  use  it  to  hurt  us  he  easily  could; 
Yet  this  frightful  proboscis  has  only  been  found, 

To  assist  him  to  reach  and  to  take  up  his  food. 

VII. 


"  Then  look  at  the  lion  so  savage  in  kind, 
ich  if  roving 
you  his  prey, 


Which  if  roving  abroad  would  soon  make 


I  2 


10^  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

Yet  here  by  his  keepers  so  safely  confined, 
Both  view  and  go  near  him  with  safety  you 
may. 

vm. 

"  And  look  at  the  monkey,  so  flippant  and  pert, 

For  he  would  be  savage  too  were  he  not 

tamed, 

Yet  here  you  may  view  him  secure  and  unhurt, 

And  feel   that  you   only  amusement  have 

gain'd." 

IX. 

The  children  were  pleased,  and  yet  could  not 
disarm 
Their  minds  of  a  great  deal  of  terror  and 
fear, 
Said  their  father,  "  my  dears,  you've  no  cause 
for  alarm, 
Only  viewing  the  beasts  in  imprisonment 
here. 


THE  LITERARY  BOX.  103 


"  But  remember  with  joy  in  your  own  native 
land, 
There  are  no  savage  beasts  that  eat  men  as 
their  prey, 
It  has  pleasures  and  comforts  and  joys  to  com- 
mand, 
But  very  few  things  to  annoy  or  dismay 


XI. 

*;  Ah,  then,  my  dear  children,  remember  this 

truth, 

Wherever  in  life  you  may  happen  to  range, 

And  let  feelings  of  gratitude,  graceful  in  youth, 

Be  recall'd    with  your   visit    to    Exeter 

Change." 


"  Oh,  now,  this  is  the  last,  the  box 


« 


104  THE  LITERARY  BOX. 

is  quite  empty,"  said  Philip,  putting 
his  hand  in,  and  drawing  it  out  again. 

"What,  quite  empty?"  said  little 
Charles,  straining  his  little  neck,  and 
standing  on  tip- toe,  to  look  in. 

"  All  gone,  all  gone"  said  grandpapa, 
and  "  all  gone,"  echoed  the  children, 
with  sorrowful  looks. 

u  All  is  gone  now,"  said  Lady  Eve- 
lyn, V  but  many  will  come  again  next 
year." 

"  Oh,  but  that  it  so  long  to  wait, 
mamma,"  said  Henry,  "  a  whole  long 
year,  you  know." 


THE  MILDMAY  FAMILY.  105 

i<r  Well  my  dear  children,"  said 
grandpapa,  "suppose  we  ask  your  mam- 
ma to  let  us  meet  again  over  our  box 
at  Easter.  There  are  Eester  holidays 
you  know.  What  say  you  to  that  ?  Come 
mamma  and  aunt  Hop  wood,  lay  your 
wise  heads  together,  and  see  if  you  can- 
not contrive  to  indulge  us.*? 

The  children  all  looked  eagerly  up  in 
their  mother's  face,  and  as  she  smiled 
consent,  they  all  gave  a  shout  of  joy,  and 
kissing  her,  to  express  their  thanks,  re- 
tired with  joyful  hearts  to  bed. 


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